Chris O'Carroll : Ogden Nash's Hamlet

My thoughts zag one way, and then in the opposite direction they zigWhen I contemplate whether killing myself would be noble or ig.When life’s troubles are a sea as vast as the Atlantic or the Pacific,Suicide takes on the aspect of an alluring soporific,For eternal sleep would end once and for all the need to grin and bear itWhen confronted by the vicissitudes that human flesh must inevitably inherit.But when I consider that the dreams associated with the sleep of death might prove to be nightmarish,My bullish attitude toward snuffing myself transforms into one which is decidedly bearish.The list of life’s pains and indignities is lengthy, featuring all manner of people in positions of power who mistreat us, to say nothing of girls who won’t date us.It’s enough to give a fellow a yen for a bodkin-induced quietus,Except that we can at least claim a certain familiarity with the burdens this world compels us to shoulder,Whereas we don’t know what to expect once our mortal remains have started to moulder.The result of all our thinking and rethinking on this subject is that our bold determination becomes sadly feeble and pale-complectedAnd a decisive course of self-destructive action ends up getting rejected.